


Once Upon A Dream

by AngelUnderneath



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Destiny, Dreams, Fairy Tale Retellings, Friendship, M/M, Magic, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:09:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelUnderneath/pseuds/AngelUnderneath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The castle and all it's inhabitants are put under a sleep spell that the sorceress Nimueh claimed could only be lifted when the true king of Camelot could accept Magic as an equal. Though when asleep Arthur's dreams were not entirely his own.<br/>Two years after this day a baby is born, a child of magic that would in time come to be the answer to all of Arthur's questions. As the child grew his days were filled with farm work and chores but his nights belonged to one man, Arthur. The literal man of Merlin's dreams. Every night when he fell asleep it would only be to wake up on a shore with Arthur, the man never aged or changed and was as constant in Merlin's life as his own magic.<br/>Merlin must travel to Camelot and discover his destiny, finding a way to wake Arthur and save Camelot from the tainted magic that holds it in it's grasp. This is the story of a peasant boy putting his life and love on the line, learning of the truth behind a child's bedtime story and his part in the story's resolution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Disney Sleeping Beauty song Once Upon a Dream.
> 
> The uploads are likely to be slower than usual as my writing is not coming as easily as it once did. But I appreciate any time taken to read this. I'll try my best with the story but I can't promise anything special.

**“Tell us the story again, Uncle.” A boy asked, tugging at the older man’s tunic. “The one with the magic.”**

**“Which one?” He already knew the story the boy meant. It was one the man never tired of retelling, and the children never seemed to tire of hearing .**

**A girl bounded in after her brother, “Samuel got to choose the story last time, I want to choose.” Samuel glared at his sister, but didn’t argue.**

**“And what story would you like me to tell, Elena?” her uncle asked, slowly reclining himself into a chair by the fire. The children plopped down at his feet, sitting cross-legged and looking up at him. Elena seemed to be thinking very hard about what story she wanted, though he knew which one she would choose.**

**“The prince that the magic lady put a spell on so they all went to sleep.” She nodded as she spoke, deciding firmly that this was the story she wanted to hear. Though it must have been the hundredth time it had been told.**

**“But we have heard that one before!” Samuel groaned. His uncle laughed, knowing him well enough to have guessed that it was actually the boy’s favourite story. Even though he claimed to favour the ones full of knights and battles, the one where a peasant boy captured the heart of a prince was never met with any real complaints.**

**The children stared up at their uncle expectantly. He sent a smile down to them both before looking into the small flames that were dancing behind them. He started to picture the events of the story he had heard and retold so many times.**

 

**“It all started with magic.”**

**~**

It all seemed to happen at once. As soon as King Uther placed the circular band of metal upon his son’s head, the atmosphere of the room changed. Not in the way that was meant and expected to at the crowning of their Prince Regent. The air seemed too thin, as if there was not enough of it for the people in the room to breathe easily. Candles along the walls were flickering, disturbed by a strong wind and celebratory shouting that should have been erupting through the throne room, but never came. The whole room was tense, like it were waiting for something.  

Arthur looked up from the floor where he knelt. He could see the rain pelting the windows, and hear the wind howling outside. It had not been five minutes before when the sky had been clear and the sun had been shining through those windows on its descent into the horizon. Yet it would not have set so soon, it would not be this dark.

The room was unusually quiet as people looked from one to another and then up to their king, who seemed to be having a silent conversation with his advisor, Gaius. The elderly man nodded and ambled towards an unseen corner, hidden behind a wide stone pillar where there was a large tapestry. Arthur knew that behind the tapestry was a secret passage that led out of the castle, but he didn’t know why the royal advisor would need to use it now.

Arthur returned his gaze back to his father, the king, and noticed how unsettled he seemed.

 “Apologies for the sudden delay.” King Uther spoke out to the congregation, trying to return attentions to the ceremony after the decidedly spooky moment.

“I hope you didn’t stop on my part.” A voice Arthur did not recognise spoke up over the silence. He twisted his body around to look, but for some reason did not move to stand. His gaze fell upon a woman in a tattered, worn purple dress and a dark brown hooded cape, which hid her face. She strode confidently towards the throne.

Arthur wondered belatedly why no guards had moved to stop her when his father shouted.

 “Guards! Seize her!” Only a few of the strongest knights actually made a move towards her, but their movements seemed slow, like they were struggling through an invisible swamp. This brought Arthur from his haze, and stood, turning to block his father from her direct line of sight.

The mysterious woman raised her hand, and with barely a flick of her wrist the knights that had stood against her were now smashing against the far wall. They collapsed into a pile of bodies on the floor. Arthur, stunned, looked back to her again. She stood in the middle of the room, but now she seemed more distinct, more powerful. It took him a few moments to realise that it was because she had remained standing, while all the guests, nobles, servants, and guards were all lying on the floor. Some were propped against each other or leaning against walls, some were sprawled across the stone floor in what could only be uncomfortable positions. It looked like a corpse strewn battlefield, but there was no blood and fewer weapons, and thankfully all of the bodies were still in one piece.

 Arthur whipped around to the throne stage. He saw Morgana, the King’s ward, the girl who had been like a sister to him. His blood ran cold when he saw her slumped in her chair, her black curls had fallen across her face and her head was propped on her shoulder at an awkward angle. It took another moment for Arthur’s panic to dissolve, when he realized that she was still breathing. He watched in relief as her chest rose and fell with her shallow breathing.

His father’s voice close behind him made him jump. He hadn’t realised they had been talking. Arthur unsheathed his sword and cursed himself that he hadn’t thought to do it earlier. Still, his senses were dulled, and his body felt slow heavy. He barely felt Uther’s hand on his shoulder as he pulled his son behind him. His voice was rather quiet when he shouted to the witch, for that was surely what she must have been.

“Why are you doing this Nimueh?”

“Surely Uther, you are not so blind. So many of my people have died by your hand. Good, innocent people. Killed because of your insolence and unwarranted hatred of magic.” Her words were slow and deliberate. Unlike the king, she was not shouting, but it only made her all the more frightening. Now, she sounded deadly.

Uther’s hand tightened on Arthur’s shoulder, “My Ygraine-” he began. but was not allowed to finish, for the mention of Arthur’s mother seemed to have struck a chord with the witch.

“Ygraine would still be alive if it wasn’t for you!” She had raised her voice. Arthur could almost feel the words echoing through him, but were not finding purchase in his dulled mind. “You blame magic and its users, but you knew the price that was to be paid for your heir. A life for a life, Uther Pendragon.” The witch sneered his father’s name.

 Arthur did not understand. She had to be lying. His mother had died in his birth, and there had been no magic in her passing. She had not been able to bear children, and he had supposedly been a miracle, but it had taken its toll on his mother. Still, somehow, he felt it was the truth.  He knew deep within himself that this was the truth he had been waiting for. It was the answer that his father would not give him in his frantic crusade to end magic.

 Uther had not spoken. His hands now hung by his sides, his features were unreadable. Though Arthur found he couldn’t look at him any longer.

“I am taking Camelot from you, Uther. I will return Magic to the land, there will be balance once again.” Arthur couldn’t find words to say to argue. If what she said was truth, then everything he knew about magic, everything that his father had taught him, on was all a lie. Or at least partly false. His head was spinning.

“But to do that, the current monarchy cannot be allowed to interfere.” With a slight smile on her lips, she raised her hand towards them like she had to the knights earlier.

Uther stepped in front of Arthur, his arms out, meaning to protect his son from whatever the sorceress could throw at him. She lowered her hand slightly.

“You think I would kill Ygraine’s son? Disregard her memory in such a way? No, Uther, I cared for her too much for that. I could never do as you have.” The witch sounded more sad than angry as she said this, though Uther did not move from his position in front of Arthur. The prince could feel his head becoming heavy on his shoulders, and he planted his feet further apart, adjusting his stance in an attempt to keep his balance. “You, Uther, I would have no problem with disposing of, but I would not let all of my hard work go to waste. When Camelot has welcomed back magic once more, once your influence is gone, I will show you what I have done. Then when you have seen all you worked for destroyed, then I will kill you.”

“What do you plan to do with us? I will not let Camelot go without a fight.” Uther unsheathed his sword, ready for battle. Arthur looked down to his own sword, loose in his hand, and wondered what use it was against this sorceress. He shook his head and gripped his sword tighter, to shake off the feeling like he’d had one too many tankards of ale at the local tavern. He was not thinking straight, and everything looked like it was moving when it shouldn’t. He moved to stand next to his father, holding himself in a similar fighting stance. He may not want to be on his father’s side at the moment, but if it meant fighting for Camelot, it was his duty to fight until the end.

“You will join your people in their slumber until I decide it is time to wake you. If I decide to wake you at all.” Nimueh said, her lips curling up at the corners in victory. She raised her hand again and started speaking in a language Arthur didn’t recognize. His father gave first, falling down the steps they’d been standing on. Arthur would have flinched or gone to his father, but he was too busy trying to fight the pressure that was bearing down on him. He stumbled back onto even floor as to not end up falling hard like his father, and his knees buckled and cracked hard under him. He was being pushed towards the floor by an unseen force, and all the fight was draining out of him. Now laying on his back, looking up at wooden beams covering the ceiling, his eyes started to close. His vision slowly disappeared until all he saw was darkness, and all he heard was silence. The last thing to reach his consciousness were four words.

 “Sweet dreams, Arthur Pendragon.”

~~

For as long as Merlin could remember, he had dreamed about a man, the same man every night. He doesn’t change, and he doesn’t age. It wasn’t like a normal dream, not that he had anything to compare it to, but at the age of five he had confided in his mother about the man in his head, and was met with pleas to keep it to himself for his own safety. Still, each night when Merlin closed his eyes to sleep he would open them again, almost straight away, to see a rocky shore of the world in his head where the man in his dreams lived. Sometimes there was a small stone table and two chairs on the sand, and sometimes there was a wooden shelter. But there was always him. Standing or sitting, occasionally swimming, but always there, always waiting for Merlin to appear.

Even when Merlin was younger he knew he wasn’t the same as other children. The man in his head was one thing, but Merlin had magic. And though it was no longer outlawed, the people of Ealdor hadn’t make the transition to accepting magic or its users very well. His mother had let him use his magic around her, for she was proud of her son and his gift, but she was also wise to the ways of the people. Therefore, she taught him that when he wasn’t alone to only ever use his magic in an emergency, and only when there is no other option. In his dreams he never felt threatened, and so never used his magic or even spoke about it. It just never came up. He doubted the man was even aware that he had magic. If he was, he’d never mentioned it.

He can’t remember the first time they met, but he knows Arthur, the dream man, has always been a part of his life. When Merlin was young, he would climb onto Arthur’s knee, to be told stories of knights and horses, of daring swordfights and wild adventures.

_“Arthur?” he asked, looking up into the man’s face to get his attention. Merlin had been around nine years old, old enough to ask important questions but still too young to properly understand most answers._

_“Yes Merlin, what is it?” Arthur replied absently. They had been walking up and down the imaginary shore, looking for shells for Merlin’s collection. It had started when he was six years old, and now there was a pile of sea shells up to Merlin’s knee, next to his favourite sitting rock. At first Arthur had refused to help, but Merlin always had a way of persuading him._

_“Are you real?” he asked, but then shook his head. No, that wasn’t the question he wanted to ask. He knew Arthur was real, there was never any doubt in that. As Arthur bent down to pick up another sea shell, Merlin reached over and covered his mouth with his hand to stop him from answering. He had got sand on Arthur’s face, but he didn’t seem to mind. He laughed at the young boy, who was shaking his head, trying to think of better words to use._

_“No, no. That’s not what I meant.” Merlin screwed up his face, concentrating on finding the right words to use. Arthur stood up and wiped his mouth on his sleeve to remove the wet sand Merlin had put there._

_“Don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself.” He reached down to ruffle the boy’s already messy black hair. Arthur could tell he was going to be tall when he grew up. Just like he had not grown into his body yet, it reminded Arthur of the puppies in the kennels back home in Camelot, with their too big ears and paws, and how they always used to fall over themselves. That was Merlin._

_Merlin scowled up at him._

_“How did you find me?” he asked hesitantly, then nodded to confirm that that was his chosen question and he would like an answer._

_Arthur looked down at the boy, knowing that as he got older he would ask more questions, and they would keep getting harder to answer. If only Arthur had all of the answers to give._

_“I didn’t find you Merlin.” Now the boy looked confused, looking up at Arthur with his head tilted slightly but before he could ask something more from him Arthur continued. “I didn’t find you Merlin. Because you found me.”_


	2. Flowers and Goats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow uploads but I'm writing chapter to chapter and I'm not a fast writer as it is and then there's weeks of not being able to write anything. Anyway here's chapter two, it's a bit boring but it's here.  
> Oh and there's a link in the fic to a picture of a quick sketch I did when bored in school for what I imagined the flowers to look like before and after but feel free to ignore it.

Merlin didn’t ask many questions, until he was a bit older. But even those were not so frequent. He learnt that a lot of the time, Arthur didn’t have the answers, and asking always put him in a worse mood. Most of what he knew about their situation was discovered over time, if Arthur ever talked about it. Though now that Merlin was getting older, he noticed Arthur was talking about himself more, and Merlin secretly loved finding out more about his friend. Because they were friends. Two people couldn’t be in their situation and _not_ form a unique bond. At least, that’s what Merlin told himself.

 

~~~~~

Merlin was turning eighteen. It was his birthday, and he had finished his chores early. He tramped past the fields, through the forest, and into a clearing he had found when he was younger. He wanted to pick some flowers for his mother, since he didn’t have money to buy anything. It may have been his birthday, but she had always tried to make this day special for him with the little that they had, and he wanted to return the favour. Merlin strolled around the clearing, looking for the prettiest ones, but there weren’t many.

He sat down with his back to the way he came, looked around and, when he didn’t see that anyone was near, focused on the small pile of wilting flowers in front of him. He lowered his voice, bending down close as if whispering to the flowers, and said simply “Be beautiful.” He didn’t know many spells, much less ones he could use for this.  But this did not stop him from pushing his magic out towards the flowers, picturing the desired effect, then leaning back to watch his work. The flowers bowed to the ground, and for a moment Merlin thought he’d messed up the spell, but then they started to rise again. Slowly at first, but soon they flicked around each other in a silent dance. The petals grew in size and shape, the stems thickening to accommodate the new weight, in bright colours that Merlin had never even thought could exist together in nature, combining before his eyes. He couldn’t look away as the petals finally settled on the [flower](http://mcmerlinpotter.tumblr.com/post/73111243318) heads, once the size of his fingernail, now had grown so only two would fit into his hand at one time. He reached out a finger and traced it across the new, bright colours, across varying shades of bright blue that you could see traces of green in, just barely, though it was the edges that were most surprising. In contrast to the blue they were a dark yellow, an almost gold hue. Merlin couldn’t help but think of Arthur. The flowers reminded him of the man.

“His hair.” Merlin didn’t realise he had spoken aloud until the words had passed his lips. He thought of the way it had never seemed to grow in all the time Merlin had none him, fluttering against his forehead in the wind blowing off the sea. He picked one of the stems from the ground at the base and held it not far from his face, inspecting it. The blue was a mix between the calm sea and a stormy sky.

 “His eyes.” It had to be. It made sense. Merlin must have been thinking of Arthur when he was casting the spell. He laughed lightly to himself, trying not to notice the blush that was creeping up his neck. When did he _not_ think of Arthur? The man was constantly on his mind, and when he wasn’t he was usually in front of him. He was constantly looking at him in ways Merlin couldn’t decipher, and was not sure he wanted to. Picking more of the Arthur-flowers until he couldn’t carry anymore in one hand, he tied a rag around them to keep them together.

On his way back to his mother, Merlin could hear one of the baby goats bleating from the field next to Saul’s house. Saul was the farmer who owned three goats and who generally took charge of crop growing in the village. The young goats had not been in the world for long, but the whole village had been overjoyed when both of them had been born healthy. More livestock generally meant better living for the whole village, providing more goods to trade and good fortune for all of them.

 He leaned over the rickety fence, looking around for them. They were not wandering about close to the road, but he could still hear the bleating. Listening properly, the poor animal sounded distressed. Without thinking Merlin jumped the fence. It wasn’t a difficult feat, being the way Merlin was, tall and gangly with his long limbs, which made it easy to manoeuvre around most things that came across his path. He ran towards the noise until he found the two little creatures behind a barrel, which he managed to push out of the way. The small male was jittery, bouncing lightly on his front legs, bleating loudly and frequently nuzzling his sister’s nose. Merlin knelt down next to the one the village children had named Bumper. When he was born and started staggering around, he had bumped into the Saul’s leg, a bucket, and then his mother before finally collapsing on the floor. His sister, however, was dead. A pile of firewood had been stacked next to the Saul’s house, and after feeding at the trough she must have knocked them over. Now she was lying, unmoving and unseeing, from under the pile of logs.

Merlin smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Bumper.” he said, rubbing the goat’s head, little horns jutting out of the grey fur. Merlin didn’t want to think about whether the logs had crushed her slowly. Maybe a particularly heavy one hit her head, or even her throat, but he just hoped the little beast hadn’t been in pain long. He went to work removing the logs, piling them again as he did. Bumper’s mother was nowhere in sight, which meant Saul was probably milking her. The small creature was shaking, confused as to why his sister wasn’t get up to play with him, or why his mother had left them. He was still making frantic noises, like he was calling out to his sister. Merlin had never heard a more lonely sound.

He finished moving the logs and watched as Bumper nudged his sister’s stomach, head, back, anywhere he could reach, making the most pitiful noises that made Merlin’s heart ache. He’d always had a soft spot for animals, and a connection he found he didn’t have with most humans. Merlin could see where the goat’s ribs had caved in. He reached out and put a hand on her head, stroking with his thumb speaking low to her. He apologised that she had had to be taken so soon and wished her well in her next life. Similar words are usually spoken to a person as they travelled into the afterlife, not a goat on a farm, but Merlin didn’t see why all life couldn’t be given the same amount of respect in death, if not in life.

 “Look. Kitt, look! Merlin’s talking to the goats.” It was Saul’s two sons. The youngest one, Ivan, was the one shouting loudly. Merlin looked over his shoulder to see the little boy standing on the fence, pointing at him. He hadn’t been able to see the goats when he had stood in the same place, but moving the barrel must have made them visible.

“What’re you doing to our goats!?” Kitt, Ivan’s older brother, shouted at him. The boy may have been a  year or so younger than Merlin, but he had more than double Merlin’s body mass, and if he had to bet on one of them, Merlin wouldn’t have backed himself to win a fist fight.

Merlin stood, turning and lifting his hands.

 “I-I’m not doing anything, she-” he didn’t get to finish, because Kitt was already shouting and making a scene. A few of the boy’s friends ran over to see what was going on, all of them with more muscle in one arm than Merlin had in his whole body. His strength didn’t lie in his physiology, but inside, with his magic, he could easily beat them all. But he couldn’t use it, not with these people.

Merlin wasn’t really listening to what Kitt was saying, even when he and three others surrounded him. He only caught a few of the words that were being thrown at him. Sorcerer. Magic. Murderer. It may not be against the law to use magic anymore, but to kill someone’s goat… Merlin looked down to the limp creature at his feet. They thought he killed her.

He could hear Ivan crying in the distance, screaming that Merlin had killed Tippy. That was what Ivan had decided to call her when he had claimed her as his own.

 “I didn’t kill her.” Merlin whispered. He said it again, louder this time, looking directly at Kitt.

“I don’t believe you. You can’t be trusted. Things like you should be drowned at birth.” The words were cruel, but from what he knew, a lot of people’s magic did not arise until they grew past childhood, so it wasn’t like they’d know until the child was older, anyway. Though Merlin himself had been an exception to that rule. He was born with it.

Merlin decided not to lecture the threatening farm boys about the details of magic he had learnt from travelling sorcerers that happened to pass through. He didn’t think that would go down very well in his current situation.

 “I didn’t kill your goat.” Merlin repeated, looking around for a way out. He didn’t want to use his magic if he didn’t absolutely have to, even if they knew he had it as much as they liked to pretend they didn’t they did.

No more words were exchanged. When Merlin looked to the boy making a move on his right, Kitt saw and took the opportunity. His booted foot connected with Merlin’s knee, but before Merlin could even drop to the floor in pain a fist smashed against his face. His cheek flared with heat, the throbbing matching his heartbeat as it raced in his chest. Merlin’s vision swam as he lay sprawled in the mud, while two of the other boys stepped forward and continued kicking him anywhere their boots could reach. He couldn’t pinpoint one specific area of pain as he felt his whole body being pummelled from all directions. His only thought was that he had to get up, or one of two things would happen. They would beat him to death, or his magic would come to the surface and do some serious damage. He wanted neither of those things. He tried to lift himself from the ground, but was always quickly subdued by another blow.

Almost as soon as the beating had started it ceased. There was a small reprieve in which Merlin managed to lift his head, opening eyes that were glowing a brilliant gold. This made them stops and stare. Merlin stood slowly, taking his time, consciously not letting the magic at his fingertips escape. Instead, he let it wash through his veins, giving him some of his strength back and chasing away some of the pain. He stepped forward, eyes still glowing brightly. All of the boys took a step back.

He looked down at the instigator of his beating, who was trembling in front of him. “I didn’t kill your damn goat.” The words didn’t come out as harsh as he had wanted them to, but they were steady and seemed to make his point. He put his hand out towards Kitt, and the boy’s face went pale. All of his friends took another step away but Kitt seemed frozen, his eyes full of fear, unable to leave Merlin’s hand. The words came flowing out of Merlin’s mouth, his lips twitching at the edges despite the fact that they were swelling fast. Kitt looked like he was about to faint and Merlin felt he could rejoice at this small victory. The flowers he had picked for his Mother floated from the floor and into his hands, mercifully untouched, as the spell he cast was intended to do. Kitt visibly sagged.

 “Don’t come near me again,” Merlin said, his eyes going from Kitt to his friends then back to Kitt. “And if you even _think_ about going for my mother, you will not be as fortunate as you are today.” Merlin stalked out of the field. He _couldn’t_ have fought back, not with magic. What good would that have done him? He would have just been seen as dangerous, and it would make them even more against magic than ever. Even if he had been the one about to be beaten to a pulp. He didn’t look back once, only feeling safe when he got home and had shut door behind him.

His mother found him moments later, slumped against the door. “Oh Merlin, what happened?” she asked gently as she cupped his face in her hand, cradling his swollen cheek softly. She lifted him up by his elbow, and guided him to a stool at the table. It wobbled under his weight, reminding him that he’d been asked to even it out the day before and had forgotten.

Hunith pulled the bowl of water on the table closer to her and wrung out a piece of cloth that had been soaking at the bottom of it. She wiped the drying blood from her son’s face, taking care not to put too much pressure on the wounds. His mother hadn’t pressed the question, but Merlin knew she wanted an answer.

 “Tippy died.” he said, not really giving her an answer. He was working up to it, but he couldn’t help but feel he had let his mother down, though there was no real logic behind the feeling. His mother simply hummed to show that she was listening, continuing to tend to the nasty cut across his cheekbone. Merlin couldn’t remember getting it, but the punch he’d received added to a sharp edge on someone’s boot, he wasn’t surprised. If his mother’s finger on his face were any indication, it stopped just before his eye. He was lucky.

“They thought I killed her. I-” he moved around on the stool, trying to ease some of the pain, but ending up with spikes of what he could only describe as angry heat driving their way through his torso.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the rising nausea. Hunith noticed and lifted his shirt slowly, and let out a small gasp.

 “Oh Merlin,” she whispered, taking in the mottled skin. Bruises had started forming on his front and sides, contrasting starkly against her son’s pale skin.

 “I was only trying to help. She’d been crushed and I couldn’t just leave her like that.” The words weren’t coming out as easily as they had been when threatening his attackers earlier. Merlin went on to continue telling his mother about what had happened, how people had just watched, how no one had tried to help him. Walking out of the field he had seen people he knew, people who he thought liked him well enough to save him from getting beaten to death for helping a goat, but apparently he’d been wrong.

Hunith shushed him quietly. “It’s ok now, Merlin. You’re safe now, my boy,” she said, stroking his hair. “No one will hurt you here.” They both knew it wasn’t true. Hunith remembered the Great Purge all too well. Homes burnt to the ground and families torn apart, neighbour turning on neighbour, thinking it was their duty to the King to destroy something or someone if there was even a mention of magic.

She helped him off the stool and together they made the few steps to the back of the small cottage, behind the curtain where they slept. She tried lowered him into a lying position on the cot.

 “I can’t.” Merlin protested, attempting to sit up, but quickly leaning his head back again, after the rush to his head nearly made him lose his grip on consciousness altogether. “Where will you sleep?” He held his mother’s wrist as she smoothed back his hair.

“One night on the floor will do me no harm, Merlin.”  She said moving her hand from his head. “Now I can make some bandages if you don’t think you’re strong enough to fix yourself up right now.” Hunith smiled down at him, even though her eyes showed him her true feelings. What loving mother would be able to see their child beaten and not feel their pain?

“I’m sure I can come up with something.” Merlin said, trying to think of a spell he could use that would be least painful whilst still heal him effectively. He didn’t know many specific spells, usually just putting magic into things and hoping for the intended result. He only knew a few real ones kept on scraps of parchment and cloth that people had wrote out for him, but since he’d never had a teacher to help guide his magic he only had what he tried on his own. Many magic-users still kept their knowledge of magic a secret, not trusting that it won’t end badly even with the laws changed.

 Hunith nodded, turning away. “Wait,” Merlin said pushing himself up onto his elbow, slower this time. His eyes flashed gold, and as Hunith stepped forward to tell him not to exert himself on little things, she felt something touching her arm and looked down. Floating at her elbow were the loveliest flowers she had ever seen. _Magical_ was truly the only word to describe their beauty.

 “Oh Merlin, thank you.” She plucked them out of the air and held them to her chest, looking down at the unique shades of blues, greens and gold that seemed to shimmer on the petals’ surfaces. Hunith glanced up at her son, only to find that he had now fallen fast asleep. His shirt had ridden up and was exposing skin that she could see had already started to clear, his magic working to heal him even as he slept. She walked over and planted a light kiss to his forehead.

 “Sweet dreams Merlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got this far thanks for not giving up on me just yet. Comments are welcome I like knowing what you think and constructive comments are also welcome. I'll try and get the next chapter up faster. Much love x


	3. A Bird of Prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was quicker to upload this because I had a sudden burst of motivation to do it but I'm sorry but don't be expecting them all this quick as I've said I'm very slow :/ So yeah I hope you like it.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, “You’re early.”

Of course Arthur would pick up on that. Merlin sighed, looking up from where he was lying on the sand to see Arthur walking out of the sea. He stood slowly, facing away from Arthur, not bothering to wipe the sand from his clothes. Merlin put a hand to his face and cursed. He could feel the swelling and cuts under his fingers. He knew that even his dream self could have a black eye, as he had turned up to Arthur like this a few times throughout his childhood. He had foolishly hoped today would be different. Luckily, he could feel his magic working, and he was already starting to feel better than he had when he’d made it home earlier. Arthur was right behind him now, clapping Merlin’s shoulder hard.

“Happy Birthday Merlin.” The action had not been meant to hurt, but his breath hissed through his teeth as the jolt had caused his injured ribs to flare in pain.

Arthur’s hand rested on his shoulder, and he slowly pulled him around to face him. Merlin watched the emotions in Arthur’s expression wrestle for dominance, before settling on pure rage. “Who did this to you?” Merlin knew when Arthur was like this it would do him no good to deny anything.

“Kitt and his friends.” Merlin said, not breaking the eye contact with Arthur. He would show him that he was ok, he would not shrink away.

Both of the man’s hands were on Merlin’s shoulders now. “What happened? Why did no one stop them?” Arthur’s grip was uncomfortably tight, but he refused to squirm under his hold or his gaze.

“They thought I killed their goat.” Merlin said simply. Arthur’s eyes blew wide at that. Merlin guessed he thought it was as ridiculous a reason as he’d ever heard. He wondered if Arthur even believed what he was being told. But then, people had been killed for less. “She was already dead when I got there. I was just trying to help.”

 

There had been other times that Merlin had been picked on as a child, turning up with black eyes, scraped knees and numerous bruises.  When Arthur had asked, Merlin had told him the truth. He had been bullied for being different. Though in all this time, Merlin couldn’t remember ever mentioning that his magic had any part of it, or that he had magic at all.

“I know that Merlin.” The blonde snapped. “I know you. You couldn’t harm a fly, never mind a goat.” Arthur wasn’t kicking boulders or throwing pebbles like he usually did when the anger inside him became too much to keep locked away. He was just staring at Merlin.

“Arthur.” Merlin said not really knowing if he had anything of any relevance to say to him, but saying his name was the only thing he could think to do.

“I will make them suffer for what they have done to you.” He said each word slowly, enunciating each one, and Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. Arthur had never acted like this. Sure, there were times he would get angry and shout to the heavens about injustice. But never had he shown this much determination to cause harm, much less for Merlin’s sake.

“If I wanted them to suffer, I would have done it myself.” Merlin said, knowing that Arthur wouldn’t know what he meant, because they both knew he couldn’t put up much of a fight. Even though Arthur had taught Merlin basic ways to defend himself years before, Merlin had never taken to it very easily and had let himself fall out of practise.

Arthur sighed and let go of Merlin, dropping onto a flat rock not far from them, he sounded defeated, “You can’t just let people treat you like that Merlin.” He looked up at the boy then, “I can’t protect you from here. I want to, but I can’t. So you have to take care of yourself.” But Merlin couldn’t protect himself. Not really, not with his magic, not without putting himself or his mother in even more danger from vicious neighbours too scared of the old laws and too stuck in their ways to change.

“It’s a few bruises, Arthur. If I was in any real danger I’d have done something about it.” Merlin said. Seeing that this hadn’t helped convince Arthur of anything, he moved to sit next to him on the rock. “I did do something. I got out, didn’t I? I got out because I knew that this time they weren’t going to stop.” Merlin said, not looking at Arthur, but out at the waves tumbling onto the sand a fair distance in front of them. He could feel Arthur watching him, looking up into Merlin’s face from where he was slumped over, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. He didn’t have to look to know that’s how Arthur was sitting. It's how he always sat when he was talking to Merlin seriously, and had done since Merlin was a boy. “My mother always talks about sending me away to live with her uncle, you know, to get away from it all. I don’t think she’ll let me stay after this.”

“Your mother is right. You’ll be safer.” Arthur replied, calmer now. Though Merlin couldn’t agree. It was still dangerous for people like him, someone with magic who looked like an easy target. If he was in trouble he could always use his magic to protect him, but he wasn’t the only one with powers and having magic doesn’t automatically mean that you are safe from other sorcerers. There were still magical bandits and rogue sorcerers that would cause him harm for the little that he had.

“I know, but I can’t leave her.” Merlin said quietly, looking down at his hands. “I’m all she has.” He would have left years ago if this wasn’t the case. He loved his mother dearly. It had just been the two of them his whole life, and he didn’t want to leave her.

“She’ll be ok Merlin. She raised you alone to be the man you are, with only her skills to provide for you both and barely a silver piece to her name. I know of no stronger woman.” Arthur said reassuringly, putting a hand over Merlin’s arm. Though it was true Arthur had obviously never met Merlin’s mother, he’d heard plenty about her through Merlin. He was grateful that Merlin had such a person in his life, who loved and cared for him in all the ways Arthur had never known in his own upbringing. 

“What if she comes to harm?” Merlin asked, voice rising. “What if she’s hurt and I’m not there to protect her? What if they turn on her once I’m gone?” The raw emotion in Merlin’s voice made Arthur’s heart ache. He hated to see Merlin like this, especially when he knew he couldn’t help, because he just didn’t know how to from where he was, trapped in some magical dream inside his own mind.

“They wouldn’t hurt your mother. She’s done nothing to warrant their violence.” Arthur said not realising how the words sounded until they had left his mouth and couldn’t be taken back.

Merlin shot up from where he’d been sitting and whirled on Arthur. “And I have?” he shouted, not able to keep it all in any longer. All of the anger that had built up over the years seemed too much in that moment. “What did I do to deserve this Arthur?” Merlin felt the tears in his eyes and silently prayed that they wouldn’t fall. How could Arthur say that?

Arthur stood too, and took a step towards Merlin. He reached out to him, in an attempt to calm the boy.

 “Merlin, that’s not what I-” Merlin flinched at his touch and stepped back. Arthur stopped his advance, giving Merlin space. He hadn’t meant to hurt him, it was just a mistake. He had just meant to reassure him that his mother would be alright without him. A bad choice of words.

A tear had escaped and was running down Merlin’s cheek. He turned away. “Just because I’m different doesn’t mean they have the right to treat me worse than they would an animal. It doesn’t make me any less of a person.”

Arthur didn’t know what to do. “Merlin.” He said quietly, trying again to move closer.

He reached out and touched Merlin’s shoulder gently, just wanting to be given the chance to tell Merlin he was sorry and didn’t mean it. He wanted to make Merlin understand. But that wasn’t what happened. As soon as Arthur’s hand made contact, Merlin spun to face him.

“I’M NOT A MONSTER!” Merlin screamed so loudly Arthur wasn’t sure if it was echoing off their surroundings or if it was just in his head. “I’m not.” the man whispered. It was like all of his energy had drained out of him then; his hands were limp at his sides and his head hung low, face wet with tears that he couldn’t even try to reign in.

Arthur wasn’t going to let Merlin move away this time. He reached out again, more hesitantly, but when Merlin didn’t move away or start shouting Arthur pulled him into his chest. He felt Merlin’s swift intake of breath. “I know Merlin. I know you’re not.” His hand found its way to Merlin’s head where it rested on his chest. His fingers smoothed the unruly black curls at the nape of his neck.

Merlin pulled away, shaking his head. “No you don’t.” Arthur was suddenly worried that he’d gone too far. He’d never known how he should act around Merlin, especially as he grew older, so this was unknown territory for him. He probably shouldn’t have touched Merlin at all.

“You don’t get it. The law of the land may have changed, but its people have not.” As Merlin said this, his eyes met Arthur’s, willing him to understand so he didn’t have to say it out loud. “The reason I’m treated so differently, the reason I will never be completely safe.” He took a deep breath before choking out the words. “I have magic.”

 

Arthur didn’t move. He couldn’t. He just stared wide eyed at the person in front of him, this person he’d watched grow from a boy, this gangly boy-man with a heart of gold. This wasn’t right.

“What are you talking about, Merlin?” Arthur said his voice coming out light hearted, even though his thoughts were swirling like the wind in a storm. “I’d know if you’d been learning magic.” Merlin wasn’t that type of person. For all his clumsiness, he was intelligent. Surely he knew that magic corrupts. It is evil, and so are its users. Everyone knew that. Arthur had told Merlin as much, when Merlin was around thirteen and had informed him of Nimueh’s rule over Camelot. Arthur remembered the day well. They had taken a walk through the small strip of forest before the sand, not watching where they were going because this place, wherever it was, was enchanted to always bring him back to the shore. Merlin had started talking about Camelot and a story that his mother had told him.

_“Do you know it? Mother told it to me.” Merlin had asked him, not looking at Arthur but watching the floor for any tree roots that may take him by surprise. Arthur, instead, had watched him. Merlin had been growing tall then, nearly fourteen and as high as Arthur’s shoulder. He hadn’t wanted to think about when Merlin would surpass his own height. It was too strange._

_“I think so. But why don’t you tell it to me?” he suggested. Of course, Arthur knew the story. It was his story, after all, but it soon became obvious that Merlin didn’t know that._

_“Mother said that Camelot used to be ruled by a strict King that hated magic. And when his son was being crowned prince regent, a sorceress broke in and put them all to sleep.” Merlin had tried to jump over a tree stump and nearly fell flat on his face, but Arthur pretended not to notice. “They say that they can only be awoken by great magic, and only when the true king of Camelot accepts a magic user as his equal.”_

_“And why should he do that?” Arthur had asked of his short companion, “When I was in Camelot, they were plagued by evil sorcerers trying to assassinate the royals or take over the kingdom. Why would the king forgive magic users? With all that they have done? Magic is evil and corruptive, and so are its users.” Arthur said with finality. He looked over at Merlin then, realising the boy had gone quiet. The boy looked incredibly perplexed, his brow furrowed, wanting to say something but not knowing how to say it._

_“Not all people with magic are like that.” He finally said, in earnest. Arthur was about to retort, but Merlin continued. “Just because someone has the means to be destructive, doesn’t mean they will be.”_

_Arthur was stunned by the depth in his words. Merlin had never spoken in this way before, but then they had never really talked about magic. Arthur turned and grabbed Merlin’s shoulders._

_“Merlin, listen to me very carefully. Most sorcerers are clever. They will manipulate you into thinking that they are good, that they are just like you. But you can’t trust them, Merlin. They are dangerous.” Arthur said the last part slowly, hoping that it will stick in his head. According to the witch Nimueh, magic was the cause of his mother’s death. Magic users had tried to take his life, and the life of his father, and it was through pure luck that they hadn’t been successful. He couldn’t let Merlin fall into some sorcerer’s trap because of his naively big heart._

 

“How long?” Arthur asked, shaking his head to clear it of the memory. “How long have you been practising sorcery?” He backed away from him by a few steps, but before Merlin could answer he turned back towards him.

 “How could you keep this from me?” his own voice surprised him, laced with the betrayal he hadn’t realised he was feeling.

Merlin didn’t argue. He didn’t really have much to argue with, even if he’d wanted to. He had kept it from Arthur for all this time, and he’d been sick of keeping something this big from him.

“I’ve had magic my whole life. I was born with it. I just can’t use it here.” He said calmly, as if he was commenting on how he found the weather that day.

 Arthur didn’t know what to say, couldn’t find a coherent thought in his head that he could form into words. Merlin, who still looked completely drained of emotion from his previous outburst, stood where he was, watching Arthur struggle for something to say.

“I’m not evil, Arthur. You all but said so yourself.” Merlin said. His eyes seemed resigned to an outcome he’d already predicted.

In Arthur’s confusion, one thought broke away from the mess of emotions in such stark clarity that he was almost taken aback. Merlin was waiting for Arthur to hurt him. Whether it was physical like all of the people that have tortured Merlin in the past, the very people Arthur had condemned not an hour before, or whether it was the type of pain that was a whole lot harder to heal, Merlin was waiting for Arthur to hate him. To throw him aside and lump him the other sorcerers who had done him wrong. It was clearly visible in the other man’s eyes.

 

Arthur knew he didn’t hate him. It was Merlin. He couldn’t hate him. But in this moment, he couldn’t even bring himself to look at him, either. He sat back down, with his head in his hands, fingers gripping and releasing his hair repeatedly. Merlin, his Merlin, had magic. Magic. Magic had ruined his life and the lives of his people who had been put under the sleeping enchantment, and most likely countless other people and now Merlin was a part of that. In Arthur’s head it was all connected, Nimueh’s spell, the endless beach that no matter what direction you walked or even swam you ended up in the exact same spot, and he had thought he was going to go mad.

And he nearly did, once. Then, after nearly two years, as far as he could guess, of no sleep and no food, though he found he didn’t actual need it here, one day everything had changed. His life here was given a purpose.

 

_Arthur heard the noise before he could see its source. At first he thought he had imagined it, like he had imagined many things before, but then he saw it in the sand. A crying baby wrapped in a fraying blanket. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He rushed over to the child, but stopped as he reached it, looking down at it curiously. He thought that maybe it could be a trick, some sort of magic illusion to catch him off guard. If he had his sword he would have felt more at ease, but when he had woken up on this shore all he had to his person were the clothes on his back; a white shirt, brown trousers, and his boots. But the baby hadn’t stopped crying, and Arthur couldn’t let his suspicions get the better of him if he wanted to keep his sanity as well as his hearing, so he bent down and picked up the small child._

_He had never dealt with a child so young before, and the idea of being alone with one now wasn’t a comforting one. It barely looked a day old. Arthur didn’t know how to take care of a baby, or even hold one, but he managed to get it into a position where its head was supported. He was cradling it to his chest, looking down into its little face._

_“Hello.” Arthur said, and then felt foolish because it obviously couldn’t respond. “I should probably stop thinking of you as an it, but if you don’t mind I would rather not find out for myself.” The small child’s eyes had barely opened, its little hands with little fingers waving in front of its face and making noises in the back of its throat. Arthur smiled for the first time in he didn’t know how long, looking down at the child in his arms, and felt happier than he could ever remember at seeing another living person._

_“What is your name I wonder?” He said, not expecting an answer, but an answer he got when the second living thing he had seen since his arrival made its first appearance. A bird of prey swooped down at the sand, pulling up to land lightly on a boulder not far from them. It appraised him with sharp eyes beyond the stout, hooked beak. Arthur could only stare back. He didn’t believe in coincidences._

_Arthur had seen this type of bird before. It was used for hunting, and his father had held quite the collection of hunting birds at Camelot. If he remembered correctly, the bird was a merlin._

_He returned his gaze back down at the baby. “Merlin. Until I can find out your real name, I’ll call you Merlin.” Arthur said decisively to the small human now dubbed Merlin. He wondered if Merlin would stay, or if the child would vanish as quickly as it had appeared. The thought bothered him more than he would ever care to admit. He held Merlin closer to his chest for what felt like hours, rambling to the little life in his hands, until Merlin’s eyes fluttered closed and Arthur’s arms were empty. He wasn’t surprised at the absence, though he probably should have been. Instead the loneliness that he hadn’t known he had been feeling crashed down into his chest with new vigour, rendering him momentarily breathless._

 

The memory hurt to think of, especially now. Even though Merlin had returned eventually, and had continued to return, the fear that he might be gone for good each time he disappeared continued to haunt Arthur. Merlin had saved him in so many ways, had made this poor excuse for living bearable, and if that was in fact what he was doing. Arthur remembered the relief at Merlin’s next return, and then the childish joy when it became a regular occurrence. His heart ached like it was being constricted in his chest.

Arthur cleared his throat.

“Leave me, Merlin.” He said, running his surprisingly steady hand through his hair. He was met with silence. Arthur looked up expecting to see the wide expanse of empty scenery that he had become used to, but instead ended up looking into Merlin’s eyes, containing all the hurt Arthur had wanted to protect him from for so many years. Arthur had never felt older.

Merlin opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it, shut his lips and his eyes. Before he blinked out of sight, Arthur heard his whispered words, carried on the wind, though he wished he hadn’t. “I’m sorry Arthur.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got this far well done and thank you so much for reading. Any comments are appreciated and if you have any tips for me to improve my writing I'd appreciate that too. Next chapter should be in 2/3 weeks if we're lucky (I'm trying). Much Love xx


	4. The Revelation

Merlin had been walking for two days and two nights, only stopping occasionally to let his legs rest. He wouldn’t let himself fall asleep. He figured if he was going to get anywhere with Arthur the man would probably need some time away from Merlin to think. And since Arthur couldn’t exactly leave for himself, it was up to Merlin to give him some room. If that left him dragging his feet with every step, then he would just have to do it.

As he reached the top of a hill, Merlin couldn’t help but gasp. When he was younger, he had heard all of the stories, but he had passed them off as childish fairytales. But now, looking at the once great citadel, he could not deny their truths. He could see right out across the town, but that was not what caught his attention. The large structure was surrounded by thick, winding plants there were vines, ivys and thorns covering every inch of stone. The exceptions that escaped the dark tendrils were the odd towers that broke free, reaching high above the craggy town. It was some time before he shook himself out of his thoughts and moved on down the hill, in search of his mother’s uncle and the start of his new life.

 

The grin he had thought was too tired to make an appearance was now stretched across his face as he took in the bustle of the lower town. The blacksmith hammering and moulding his iron with a small group of villagers as an audience, the children and animals dodging wagons and legs as if it were a game then there was the market place with people shouting to customers, bargaining and selling. Merlin had never seen anything quite like it.

“Excuse me.” Merlin said as he approached a woman behind a table covered in colourful materials, “Could you tell me where I could find Gaius?” he asked. She looked at him oddly so he continued to explain his request, “He is-” he started but was soon interrupted with a wave of the woman’s hand.

“The crazy old man in the apothecary shop. Yes, I know who he is.” She said unkindly, the sneer shaping her mouth and making her face unpleasant. Merlin was shocked at the tone. “If you want treatments, there is a more reliable seller a few stalls down.” The woman pointed in the direction that Merlin had just come.

He shook his head, “Thank you, but I am looking for Gaius.” He said hoping she would just give him the directions without giving him further doubts on his decision to leave his home, and to move to a place he’d never been and live with a stranger.

“Suit yourself.” She pointed in the opposite direction now, “Go straight until the market ends and take a right, there’s a sign outside his shop.” She said, but before Merlin could thank her she had turned away to talk to a customer. Merlin nodded and walked in the direction she had pointed, hoping that not all of Camelot’s people were to be held in a similar manner.

 

He found the shop with ease, but upon entering he nearly turned around to leave again. The smells hit him with a sudden force that made his head reel. He took one deep, steadying breath in an attempt to get used to it, and moved forward until he was at the back of the shop, leaning on a table in front of a doorway. Merlin looked around the room but saw no other person. Only shelves of books, bottles, small sacks, plants, and numerous other items Merlin simply did not recognise. He would have explored, if he had the energy, but the new smells were making his head fuzzy and his lack of sleep was creeping up on him. He knocked clumsily on the wooden table and clearing his throat, he shouted out a greeting. 

“Hello. Gaius?” There was no response. He tried again. His words were met with silence. Merlin dropped his pack to the floor and his chin to his chest, and wondered if it would be impolite to fall asleep on a stranger’s shop floor.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice asked from right in front of him. His hands, that had been holding his weight on the table, slipped and he fell forward. His hips hit the table and caused it to skitter slightly across the stone floor. It would have gone farther and left Merlin underneath it, if the man hadn’t held the table in place, allowing Merlin to use it to steady himself again.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Merlin mumbled, righting himself and looking up into the man’s face. “I’m Merlin. My mother sent me to, err…” He had to think for a moment, about why his mother had sent him and what he should tell Gaius. “She gave me a letter!” Merlin half-shouted, happy to have remembered that small fact. He looked back at the elderly man to see him watching him with his eyebrow raised. Merlin handed over the letter sheepishly, and stood while Gaius pulled his seeing glass out of his robes to fall on the paper and slide over the words.

Gaius looked back with a small smile on his face. If Merlin had doubted that the man in front of him was the one his mother spoke of, all ideas of that were brushed away when the man spoke again.

 “Your mother is a good woman.” He said, with a fondness for his niece that Merlin knew all too well.

“I know.” Merlin said, a tired grin spreading across his face once more. Gaius led him through the doorway, and into his living area. It was small, as he had obviously split the space in order to have the shop out front. The older man let him put his things onto a second cot that had been set up in the corner of the room, as well as offering him some cupboard space if he required it. It was more than Merlin was used to after sleeping on a stone floor for most of his life, so he thanked Gaius and sat with the man at his table, taking the drink that was offered.

Gaius asked him how his journey had been, and if he had found his way alright. Merlin filled him in on the minor details, but hesitated when it came to mentioning the woman at the stall. Gaius seemed to understand Merlin’s pause, as he only nodded at him.

“The people have come to think of me as a crazed old man. They forget that I was once physician to the king, and had only managed to escape the curse under the king’s own request.” he said, though the tone of his voice led Merlin to wonder whether he believed the words himself, or whether they were of any comfort at all. He was bursting with questions, but he did not know which to ask first, if he should even ask them at all.

“May I ask you something?” Merlin said quickly, though did not really give the man time to respond before he began to talk again.

“Well I didn’t believe it at first. I thought it all just stories to send a child to sleep at night but then I saw it, the castle I mean, and you just said there is a curse.” Merlin wasn’t even sure what he was asking. He just wanted to get all of the facts straight in his mind, though he was too excited by the information to take much of it in. “And you say you worked there. What was it like? You know, before?” Merlin’s excitement was quieted then, looking earnestly at his mother’s uncle. He felt like a young boy again, about to be told a story.

Gaius told him about how he had lived in the castle, and had been court physician as well as the King’s advisor. He told of how the King had suffered a great loss, and in his grief caused the suffering of countless people in a time known to many as the Great Purge, when magic in Camelot was forbidden, and punishable by death. Gaius looked deeply saddened as he talked about it.

“It is a relief to see magic coming back to Camelot after so long, but I am not so sure about the price that is being paid,” he said not elaborating on his meaning. “I don’t know that the curse can ever be lifted.” Gaius’s voice was contemplative, a long perplexing question rising to the surface.

 “How could the King ever accept magic while asleep? Unless he is able to dream, but even then-” Gaius’ words drifted off. It was obviously a line of thought the man had been down many times before, but still with no answer at the end. Then he waved a hand, as if to dismiss his words from the very air he had spoken them into.

 “Anyhow, you’ve probably been told it was the Prince’s coronation when Nimueh, the sorceress who has taken charge of Camelot, put them all to sleep until the curse can be broken. I was there that day as well, but King Uther had sensed something about to go wrong, and sent me down through a secret passage to alert the guards outside for assistance, and to find and alert the knights that were scheduled to be returning from patrol. Many have asked, why me? Truthfully it was because I could be trusted, and I would not be noticed leaving.” He looked at Merlin while explaining. Merlin, who didn’t seem to hold any judgements, only nodded Gaius on with childish curiosity.

“Then the thorns grew, and that was that. I moved in here some time later, and set up my shop. I heard what had happened when Nimueh made her announcement to the people.” Gaius looked like he had finished sharing and moved to stand, but Merlin wanted to know more.

“What were they like? The Prince, the king, what were they like?” Merlin asked. He couldn’t have stopped himself from sounding like an excited child if he had tried. This had simply been a story he had heard countless times, but now it was real. He had to know more. Gaius looked at Merlin, and settled into his seat again.

“King Uther was a good man, but blinded by pain and grief. It greatly distorted his judgement.” Gaius sighed as he spoke. “I had been with the Pendragons since before the Prince’s birth, and helped to tutor him as he got older.” The old man’s wrinkled face creased with a smile at what Merlin could imagine where memories of the young Prince. “And Uther’s ward, Morgana, she was bold and headstrong, but she loved greatly. And as much as they argued and teased, she loved Arthur like a brother.” Merlin stiffened up at the name, earning him an odd look from Gaius. It wasn’t an unusual or unique name by any means, but it always drew his attention.

“G-go on,” he urged, and Gaius continued.

 “Arthur may have been a bit, shall we say, _unyielding_ with his subjects in the past, but he had the makings of a great king.” The man’s eyes grew sad, and it had not gone unnoticed by Merlin that he was only speaking in the past tense. Gaius spoke as if these people were already dead and not under an enchantment.

“He will get the chance one day.” Merlin said assuredly, and despite himself he believed it to be true. Magic was coming back, and some people may be stuck in their ways, but it was returning. And with magic, there would be an answer. Gaius didn’t say anything. He just looked at the boy who was still a stranger, and yet had managed to talk to Gaius as if he had known him for a lifetime. “I have a friend. He knows of the story, and he seems to have had experience with strong magic in the past. I could ask him?” his words ended on a question, though he felt it was aimed more at himself than Gaius.

Would he be able to broach the subject so quickly? Arthur had never liked to talk of magic, and now he knew of Merlin’s… he didn’t know what to do. But he would have to face Arthur eventually.

Gaius just nodded, looking at Merlin as if he were a book who’s text needed to be deciphered to understand the information. The old physician rose from his chair and left him then, telling him to rest if he needed and he would find work for him in the morning. Merlin thanked the man again as he watched him walk through the door and into the shop. He was apprehensive as he lay down on the cot, but the moment his head hit the pillow the exhaustion washed over him, and pulled him under, and he was helpless to stop it.

 

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted at him, upon his arrival. Merlin couldn’t help but jump when he heard it, but his friend did not sound angry. Merlin allowed himself to release some of the tension in his shoulders. “Where have you been?” Arthur asked, walking towards him from the tree line.

Merlin watched his approach. Of all the ways he had imagined their next interaction to go, this hadn’t been among them.

 “You told me to leave you alone. So, I did.” He said, refraining on any of the other things that were on his mind, ranging from ‘I just did as you said, you prat!’ to ‘It’s like you’ve forgotten the whole thing!’ and Merlin didn’t know how he felt about this.

“I know.” Arthur said his brow creasing as he thought back. So he did remember, he’s just going to pretend that it didn’t happen, Merlin thought to himself. “I just needed some time to think.” he said stiffly, in a way that could almost have been taken for defensive.

“And?” Merlin prompted, not sure if he actually wanted to know Arthur’s conclusion. Though to Merlin’s indignation, Arthur ignored the question completely, as if Merlin hadn’t even spoken. Instead, he began to dig into Merlin.

“It’s been days, Merlin. You had just been attacked, and you were travelling! Anything could have happened, and I would not have known.” Merlin could not discern whether he was more angered or worried, the man had asked for him to leave and Merlin had done that to the best of his ability. And now he was complaining that Merlin had actually done what was asked of him.

He couldn’t help but huff his annoyance. He started a retort, but one look at Arthur’s face stopped him from speaking out. If Merlin took this to be Arthur’s concern, then surely it means that the dream man didn’t hate him. Maybe his magic would not break them apart, as Merlin had feared. He could see that Arthur still had to work through his own feelings on the matter, but having Merlin as his only source of companionship was likely to have been a contributing factor to the little forgiveness he had been given, even if it did mean Arthur was ignoring the subject. But that wasn’t going to work for Merlin.

“I arrived today.” Merlin said as a way of addressing Arthur’s earlier statement, “I met my mother’s uncle, Gaius, who I’m staying with, just outside of the old Camelot palace.” Merlin said, working himself up to asking Arthur about the curse and if he had seen anything like it before, but from the look on Arthur’s face he wasn’t going to get to that just yet.

 “Arthur, what’s wrong?” The man’s face had gone slightly pale though his mouth was twitching like he didn’t know whether he should be crying or laughing, it was very disconcerting.

“Gaius.” Arthur said, and the name rolled easily off his tongue, “He’s not asleep?” He seemed to be inside his own thoughts, maybe not even realising he was speaking aloud. He laughed quietly. Relief and panic and joy all passed through his feature all at once, and he stared into a middle distance that held nothing but the memories only Arthur could see.

“You know Gaius?” Merlin asked. Then realisation dawned.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not made the connection earlier? He had been talking about it only hours before, but how had he not realised the connection? Gaius had even said his name. Merlin’s head was spinning.

“By the Gods.” He put his hand to his head and staring wide eyed at Arthur. “You can’t be.” Merlin said, more to himself that Arthur. Arthur just sat in the sand, looking at him, waiting for him to say the words that he already knew.

“And you had the cheek- The way you acted about my…” Merlin was gesturing around the beach as if that would help the words settle more easily in his mind. “You’re the one from the stories, the sleeping prince of Camelot.” He stated, still staring at the man in front of him.

 “Prince Arthur.” The prince in question nodded his head, looking almost sheepish. _And rightly so!_ Merlin thought. “And you didn’t think to mention- No. The real question is what on Earth are you doing in my head?”

Merlin was starting to panic. Arthur’s presence had never really needed to be brought into question before, not to Merlin. It was just a fact of his life that Arthur was just as much a part of him as his magic was, but he wasn’t Merlin’s alone. He had a family and a kingdom and Merlin really needed to sit down. He didn’t feel he could make it to the rocks, so instead he sat where he had stood, and watched as Arthur mirrored his actions and try to make eye contact.

“I don’t know, Merlin.” Arthur said, and in that moment Merlin couldn’t remember having asked any questions. He just knew that he didn’t like the confusion and fear that was on Arthur’s face. Usually Arthur hid it well, but Merlin knew him. Arthur didn’t have to say anything for Merlin to see. “Maybe,” Arthur faltered, not knowing whether to continue with his line of thought, but decided to say it.

 “Maybe you’re the magic that could save us.” Merlin didn’t want to watch his friend’s face anymore. But he saw the hope Arthur was trying to hold back but could not help but find its way to the surface, and he found he couldn’t look away.

Merlin’s shoulders slumped, and he was shaking his head, but Arthur reached over and held his chin still to stop the movements.

“Merlin, you might be the best chance I have of ever getting out of this place.” This was all too much, and it was all happening too fast. But it wasn’t, not really. This chaos had always been a part of his life, but he had been too blind to notice. Though, what farm boy would ever believe he had an enchanted Prince in his head that may or may not be depending on him to break his curse?

“So you don’t know how to break it?” Merlin asked, getting to the matter he had originally wanted to discuss. Although now, he did not think he would be able to focus on an answer.

Arthur shook his head again, “I only know what the witch said. ‘When the true king of Camelot accepts magic as an equal, then the enchantment will be broken.’ But my father was put to sleep too, I don’t understand how it’s possible.” The prince looked away again, out to the forest, and Merlin suddenly felt a wave of pity for the man sitting in front of him. He touched the hand that had now moved to lay on his shoulder for comfort. He couldn’t imagine it was a comfortable position for Arthur to be sitting in, but he didn’t seem to want to break the contact.

“Maybe the King is in a place like this.” Merlin gave a nod to their surroundings, “Maybe he has had time to think, and maybe even reconsider, his stance on magic and such.” The words sounded false in his own ears. He knew the likelihood was slim, based on the many terrible stories of King Uther’s reign he had heard, and his hatred for magic had been a common factor throughout.

Arthur had turned his palm upwards, holding on to Merlin’s hand as he let his arm drop into Merlin’s lap between them. He did not look at Merlin but down to their joined hands as he whispered, “We can only hope.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone out there that was actually waiting for this, I'm so sorry this one was late. The next one's going to be a bit slow too. I'M SORRY! I've barely been getting out of bed these days so writing has been a bit out the question. Anyway here it is, let me know what you think. I'm going to be longer with the next chapter but I promise I'll try and make them more regular after the next chapter.
> 
> ** THESE FIRST FOUR CHAPTERS HAVE NOW BEEN EDITED. THANK YOU SKYLAR**


	5. Call of a Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter and I'm sorry please don't hate me I'm trying my best.

It was morning. The sun could be seen struggling its way into the sky from the window above Merlin’s head. He sat at the edge of his cot, pulling on his boots, watching Gaius moving about the room as he prepared for the day. Merlin wondered how on Earth he would go about having this conversation with Gaius.  
Merlin felt that starting with ‘The man I see in my head when I go to sleep is your Prince, and he thinks I could be the one to wake up Camelot, even though my magic is untrained and I’ve no way of talking to the king’ would not give the best impression. Gaius was moving towards the curtain that lead into the shop. If Gaius started his day Merlin knew he’d chicken out, and never manage to start this conversation.  
“Gaius!” he shouted, bringing himself to the physician’s attention.  
“There’s no need to shout, Merlin. What is it?” Gaius stopped and turned to look at him, a hand still on the curtain, ready to move it aside.  
“I have a question about the story last night. About the, um…” he paused, not knowing the best way to continue, “Curse. You know, waking Camelot, saving the king, accepting magic and all that?”  
“Merlin, there’s very little else I could tell you. Could this not wait until later?” Gaius asked, dropping his hand and turning to fully face Merlin. But upon seeing the boy’s agitation, he continued with a sigh.  
“What do you want to know?” Gaius sat down on the stool at the table, knowing without reason that Merlin’s question would not have simple answers that would allow him to start work on time.  
“Do you think there is someone out there that could help to break the curse?” Merlin asked, wringing his hands absently, “Someone with magic?”  
Gaius observed him for a few seconds, not sure of what kind of answer to give him. “Not long ago, Merlin, I would have said no. Only Nimueh could break the curse. But I think, perhaps, in my old age I am becoming somewhat soft. So yes, Merlin, if the druid prophecies are to be believed, there is someone out there who can wake the citadel.” He gave a small smile. He was becoming rather fond of his newly acquainted nephew. “Is that all?”  
Merlin gave a slight shake of his head. Gaius watched him take a deep breath before expelling the next words from his mouth. He struggled to hear the words the first time, but Merlin quickly realised his mistake and repeated himself.  
“What if it could it be me?” Merlin asked, slower this time, looking embarrassed but determined. He was serious about this.  
“Why would you think it was you?” Gaius asked. “Do you have any magic to speak of? It’s not something that can be simply undone with a quick spell, Merlin.” The old apothecary was confused as to why this boy would even consider the possibility. Why would he be the one to undo this strong magical curse that many more experienced sorcerers had attempted to break, which was performed years before he was even born?  
“I do have magic.” Merlin said slowly. He was not used to having to say it aloud, “I never learned to do much with it. My mother says I was just born with it.” Merlin shook his head, as if trying to straighten his thoughts, and in that moment Gaius felt sorry for him. The look on the young man’s face was a physical expression of the turmoil inside his head. It was one that the physician had seen many times before, but usually only on people who had lived long, hard lives. Merlin continued making eye contact with Gaius as he spoke his next words. “My magic’s not really the reason that I ask. It’s my connection to the prince.”  
“Connection?” Gaius asked, startled. Of all the reasons Merlin could have given, that was not one that the old man would ever have guessed. “I’m sorry, my boy, but I don’t follow. The prince has been asleep for twenty long years, Merlin. How could you possibly have a connection with him?” His question sounded more curious than condescending, which Merlin was grateful for. Gaius would need an open mind if Merlin was going to get his story across.  
“You’ll likely think I’m crazy,” Merlin said with a sad smile. It wouldn’t be the first someone believed him to be insane. “But when I go to sleep, I’ve always woken up on a beach with a man. His name’s Arthur. We only worked it out last night and he told me what he knew, but he recognised your name and-” Merlin looked at Gaius’ disbelieving face. “Look, I know it’s hard to understand, but I’m not making this up. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.”  
Merlin started speaking faster, not able to stop himself now. “He’s got blond hair, blue eyes and a stupidly handsome face, and he’s about this tall.” Merlin gestured wildly with his hand around the height he thought Arthur was. “He used to tell me stories of knights and battles and a prince with a white horse called Hengroen. It could have been his, I don’t know. He didn’t say. He can be a prat sometimes and we argue quite a lot, but he’s really very nice when you get used to him.”  
Merlin stopped to take a breath. He was about to continue, when Gaius interrupted him.   
“Merlin, slow down.” Merlin stopped talking, his shoulders slumping as he waited to hear what Gaius had to say. Here it comes, he thought. Would he laugh and say it was all just an elaborate dream, or would he call him insane and maybe even send him away? “Can you talk to him when you’re awake, or only when you’re asleep?” Gaius lurched upwards and was moving towards his bookshelf.  
Merlin could only stare at the old man, who was scanning his collection of old leather bound books and collecting scraps of paper. “Wait, you-” Merlin couldn’t quite understand what had happened. He was sure that Gaius would just brush it off as childish daydreaming. “You believe me?”  
Gaius looked over his shoulder, “You’ve never been to Camelot before, and arrived only yesterday. What way would you have of knowing the prince’s height and hair color, of all things? And anyone who knows of Arthur Pendragon would have just stopped at his prideful behaviour. It takes true interaction for anyone to see that it was not all he was.” The old man sat down at the table, placing a small pile of books in front of him. He pulled a second stool closer to the table and gestured for Merlin to come and sit with him.  
Only when Merlin had slowly moved over to sit with his uncle did the older man speak.  
“Now, Merlin. Tell me everything.” And so Merlin did. They sat together reading through Gaius’ books and making notes, as well as discussing the ins and outs of Merlin’s connection with Arthur, and the possibilities of expanding this connection through magic and meditation. Gaius didn’t open the shop that day.  
***  
That night, when Merlin lay down to sleep, his mind was so full of what he and Gaius had discussed and what he was going to tell Arthur that sleep seemed impossible. Lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, an unexpected sound shocked him into a sitting position. It was a voice, deep and booming reverberating through his head, calling out to him.  
Merlin.  
He looked over at Gaius’ prone form and managed to make out the man’s stomach rising and falling evenly with each breath, not reacting to the loud interruption at all. The voice continued to call to him, the unfamiliar sounds saying his name over and over in an increasingly dissatisfied tone.  
“What?” Merlin whispered not wanting to wake Gaius, “Who is this? What do you want?” He put his hand to his head, wishing that the voice would at least talk a bit more quietly.  
The voice told him to follow the path out of the town and into the forest. At this point, Merlin would have done just about anything to get the voice out of his head. It was very disconcerting, and he had to admit he was more than a little curious about the person talking in his head. He’d heard that some druids possessed the skill to mind-speak. Maybe it was a druid.  
Soon enough, Merlin found himself sneaking out of Gaius’ house and into the forest, all against his better judgement. What sane person follows the voice in their head to the middle of a forest in a place he had lived in for less than a week? Though Merlin decided that he had given up any claims of sanity when he admitted that there was an enchanted prince living in his head at night.  
He crept through the trees and edged his way into the clearing that he’d been directed to, but the sight that met him when he walked out into the open was far from what he had expected. Barely ten paces away stood a creature of magic, one that Merlin had thought to be just a story to keep children in their beds at night.  
But like the story of Camelot, the existence of dragons has also proven Merlin’s beliefs to be wrong.  
He nearly turned and fled at the realisation of what was in front of him. All traces of exhaustion were washed away by the energy flowing through his veins, giving him the option to stay and face possible danger or run for his life. Once more blaming it on his newly acknowledged insanity, Merlin stayed where he was, facing the creature that towered above him.  
“Ah, young warlock” said the dragon, the familiar voice no longer in his head, but echoing throughout the clearing. Merlin looked around in a vain attempt to see if there was anyone who had heard. Finding no one, he looked back at the dragon. Merlin wondered if that was all he was going to say, and was about to ask what he was doing here when the dragon spoke again. “I assume you’re wondering what it is I called you here for.”  
Merlin was silent, thinking that maybe the dragon could not only talk in his mind but also read it, though he never gave any indication that Merlin was correct as he continued. “The druids have prophesised the coming of a magic user that will awaken Camelot. There are many times when the druid seers are mistaken, though this is not one of those times.”  
“So you’re saying that I’m the one that’s going to wake Camelot?” Merlin asked, presuming that was where the dragon was going with this conversation, and wondering if he was purposely not saying it out right. “It can’t be me. It must be someone else, someone like me that-”  
“There is no other like you, Merlin.” The Dragon interrupted, and Merlin knew that it was not meant in the sentimental way that his mother would use. “Your connection with Arthur is a unique one. Uther has received no such gift.”  
“How did you-” Merlin decided to abandon that question. Of course the big magical dragon knows about his magical ‘connection’ with Arthur. “How am I supposed to wake Camelot?”  
“You will know when the time is right, young warlock.” The Dragon told him, bowing his head as if it was great wisdom that he was passing on and not the most useless thing that Merlin had ever heard.  
“What does that even mean? That’s not an answer.” Merlin shouted up to the dragon. A strong wind whipped around him, threatening to steal his words away. “Arthur is not the king. I can’t be the one to save Camelot because I have no way to get to the king.” This wasn’t helping him at all. He felt his head would explode if he didn’t start getting some clear answers soon. He just needed something he could go off, anything that could help.  
“Do not look into the past, Merlin. Look to the future, for it is that which will help you on your path. It is your destiny.” The Dragon stretched his wings, their tips brushing over the tops of the trees, preparing to lift off of the ground.  
“Wait, you can’t leave.” Merlin shouted, desperation turning his voice hoarse. “You have to help me.”  
“Not yet, young warlock. Not yet.” The Dragon said, just when Merlin thought he couldn’t become anymore confused with his situation. What could he possibly mean by ‘not yet’?   
“Heed these words.” He said, moving his great head so that the moonlight hit his scales in such a way that they shone a range of colours, greens, grey, black, gold. Merlin was momentarily distracted by the display.  
“The witch, Nimueh. Her motives have been tainted, her thoughts twisted and blackened through power and her own dark magic. Keep your distance from her, for her involvement will not bode well for you, or for Camelot.”  
Merlin thought about that for a few moments. He’d not come across Nimueh yet, and only glimpsed a few of what he had thought her guards in the marketplace. All he knew of them were stories. He wasn’t worried about her. What were the chances of her finding him? The prophesised saviour of Camelot turned out to be a simple farm boy working for a crazy old physician. As long as he kept his head down, he should be safe from her.  
“Thank you.” Merlin said, watching as the Dragon suddenly jumped into the sky. His huge wings beat and churned the air beneath them. “How will I find you again?” he shouted as the Dragon rose higher.  
“When you need me, Merlin, I will find you.” The Dragon said with finality. His words left behind an echoing through the clearing as he flew up and over the trees, out of sight.  
***  
The walk back to Gaius’ house felt much longer than it had earlier. Merlin was sure that if he didn’t make it back soon he’d end up getting caught by one of Nimueh’s guards on patrol, so he moved quickly. The sun was beginning to wake and the sky was filled with warm yellow and orange, chasing away the deep blues and black that were ahead.  
As soon as Merlin walked through the door, he wasted no time in waking Gaius to tell him of his night time excursion. Though almost as soon as he started, he was interrupted. “You must be careful, Merlin. Nimueh’s guards patrol at night, and they are as dangerous as they are unpredictable.”  
Merlin was slightly taken aback. He had barely seen one guard since arriving in Camelot. Though after the mention of the Dragon, Gaius let Merlin continue on without any further interruption. He talked about how the Dragon spoke in his head, the confirmation of his destiny, and the warning against Nimueh.  
They spent their time discussing Nimueh’s power, and her curse. They spoke of Uther’s awakening, and whether it is truly the right time to wake him. They talked about how magic was still working its way into Camelot, and the trust of magic users is still growing. Uther’s awakening could ruin all of that.  
“I know, Gaius, but what about Arthur?” Merlin looked up at his uncle, “He thinks my magic is the answer all of Camelot has been waiting for. I don’t know what to do. How can I tell him that I can’t be the man he thinks I am?”  
“Merlin, if what you say is true, then it is your destiny.”Gaius said, placing his hand atop Merlin’s. “You can do this. We will find a way. You just have to give it some time, my boy, and so will Arthur.”  
“He’s waited long enough.” Merlin said his hand tensing into a fist under his uncle’s touch. “There must be some other way, someone else, that can help him.”  
“I agree, Merlin. Twenty years is a long time. But if we’re going to have to do this, we must first learn how.” Gaius walked over to the table that was covered with scattered books and papers. He skimmed a hand over the surface of a page. “I do not wish to make Arthur wait any longer than necessary, but we need time, Merlin. I only hope we have it.”  
Gaius couldn’t spend another day avoiding work. He told Merlin they would decide what they could do for Arthur later that night. For now, he needed help with errands that he had missed due to the recent developments that Merlin brought with him.  
This was how Merlin found himself walking around the lower town with a satchel full of small pouches of ground herbs, bottles of remedies and tinctures, and with absolutely no idea where he was going. The only words from Gaius had been that it would ‘give him a chance to get to know the town better’ and a few vague directions.  
It took him the rest of the day to finish Gaius’ errands. With what little energy he could muster, he shovelled some of the broth that had been prepared for supper into his mouth and excused himself with the promise of continuing their earlier conversations the next day. He then fell promptly to sleep, not even giving a second thought to what he could say to Arthur when he saw him. He could not avoid sleep forever. Or Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the next chapter will be a little while as this one has only just been editted and I'm running behind. But yes this chapter has now been editted!!  
> I don't think I like this chapter so much it just seems like a filler chapter. I'm making this up as I go along but hopefully we'll get something good out of this, it should pick up a bit soon as I'm introducing another character that we all know and love. (Well I love him anyway)
> 
> If you've stayed this long thank you so much for reading I really appreciate it. If you're angry with me for wasting your time with terrible story and writing I can only apologise, I never claimed to be any good.
> 
> Ok Thank you and Much Love x


	6. Gwaine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I'm shit. I'm sorry. It's been nearly 17 months since I last updated. I have five more chapters written but it's still not finished, this fic ran away from me. And due to a crippling lack of self esteem and confidence I struggle with actually writing and finishing things. So this is just a warning that I WILL post the other chapters in time but I may not finish. But this fic has been haunting me a little and I do want to get it done so I have notes for a few more scenes and for a possible ending and will do my very best to finish it but please dont hate me if I give up, it's so hard to keep writing when you hate everything you do.  
> Alright sorry for that.

Merlin spent the passing weeks helping Gaius to carry out his physician duties as well as starting to try and train his magic in whatever spare time they had, which wasn’t a lot with a new fever virus spreading throughout Camelot. His ability to control his magic had greatly improved under Gaius’ tuition, though it was evident to them both that he still had much to learn.

Avoiding Arthur hadn’t lasted long, though not through lack of trying on Merlin’s part. The next time Merlin returned to their beach the conversation, stunted as it was, had started in questions that Merlin could find no conceivable answer for. This quickly turned into anger on both sides.

Arthur wanted to get out of his magical prison and live his life, he wanted to grow old, and Merlin being Merlin just wanted to help. It hurt him to see Arthur this way, knowing he should be able to help but not knowing how.

The thought of being out of each other’s lives had never needed to be brought into question before, and neither of them were about to start now. Both fiercely ignoring the fact that if they succeed in their endeavour they will lose all of this and for Merlin this life with Arthur is all he has ever known. To lose their connection would be to lose a part of himself that Merlin wasn’t sure he’d be able to live without.

 

Those nights spent arguing were at least better than the silence, Merlin couldn’t stand the silence. Even if all he had done with his evening was sitting on the opposite end of the beach to Arthur, it was as if the other man’s absence from his side was enough to drain Merlin of energy.  

It was after one of these nights that he woke feeling as though he were a dead man walking. To Merlin it seemed like it would be any other morning, spent running errands whilst trying not to fall asleep on his feet, and if he had been any more alert it would have been. It was Merlin’s inability to stay awake enough to walk in a straight line that resulted in him stumbling head on into the answer to one of his most pressing problems.

The problem being a way into the castle to better assess the situation he was facing. Over the years many had tried, though none had succeeded in making it through the barrier of enchanted thorns surrounding every point of entry. The answer to this problem came in the form of one charming, ruggedly handsome man, though Merlin would not discover Gwaine’s value in his own destiny so quickly.

 

**_“But Uncle, you never told us tha-”Elena spoke up, confused at the change in a story that both she and her brother thought they knew by heart._ **

**_“Well I’m telling you now,” their uncle interrupted gently, giving them a look that quieted them both. “I may not have told you the whole story in the past but due to events soon to pass I think it necessary for you to have all of the facts. Don’t you?”_ **

**_The children nodded their heads vigorously, smiling like they had just been let in on a precious secret. Which in a way they had._ **

**_“Alright. Where was I? Ahh that’s right, Gwaine.” He said smiling at the children before starting again on his tale._**  


Merlin was lost in thought, going through the motions of Gaius’ errands as if he were being controlled by a being other than himself. This was until he was suddenly jarred out of his semi-conscious state by having collided with a solid object that, to Merlin, seemed to appear from nowhere. His eyes flew open and he cursed himself when he realised he’d been walking with them closed.

He landed hard on the floor dropping the basket he’d been carrying, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking. I was-” Merlin started, bringing his hand to his head though he hadn’t hit it.

“It’s no trouble. I wasn’t payin’ attention either.” The stranger said, looking down at Merlin from where he stood, steady as if Merlin had been nothing more than a breeze that had blown up against his chest.

Merlin stared up at him confused at the friendly manner, he had been expecting shouting at the very least. His experiences with the people of Camelot had pushed him to the decision that the best way to get around here safely was to keep to yourself and pretend you weren’t there. As Merlin thought on it he realised that it was not that the villagers were bad people but more like they were all on edge, strained, like a string about to snap under great tension.

The man’s hand moved in front of his face, he had reached out to help him off the floor but Merlin sat still staring dazedly back at him, like he was the village idiot Gaius often accused him of being.

 He could almost hear Arthur’s voice in his head telling him that’s because he was an idiot, though it couldn’t have been Arthur’s voice, his had not been so light for weeks now.

“I don’t bite you know.” The man said waving his hand again to get Merlin’s attention. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Merlin could feel a flush rising up past his scarf as he took the man’s hand. He mumbled his thanks, not meeting the now laughing man’s eyes.

He kept hold of Merlin’s hand and shook it once when they were both standing upright. “Gwaine,” he said, by way of introduction.

It took Merlin a moment to realise that that was the man’s name and a moment longer for him to respond in turn, “Merlin.” He gave a man a small smile before turning to retrieve the basket of herbs that had now scattered across the path. “I’m sorry again,” He said as he knelt down to salvage what he could, “for walking into you.”

“It’s fine, Merlin.” Gwaine said softly, though his response made Merlin jump, he was a lot closer than Merlin had though. Gwaine had stooped down next to him and was focused on collecting what he hoped was what Merlin had dropped and not stray blades of grass. “It’s not like the path wasn’t big enough, I’d say we were both at fault.”

Merlin looked around them then, finding that he was right. The path had been big enough for a large wagon to pass on with ease and yet the two men had both been so wrapped in their own thoughts that neither had noticed the other’s approach.

They stood then and Gwaine placed his small collection into Merlin’s basket. “Well it was nice meeting you, Merlin.” Gwaine said patting Merlin’s shoulder and adjusting the pack over his own back before moving past Merlin and continuing on his way.

“You too.” Merlin replied to the retreating figure. He watched Gwaine go with what could only have been a goofy expression on his face. He had not met many people in Camelot but Gwaine, after that brief encounter, was quickly becoming his favourite.

Gwaine turned back and seeing Merlin still looking raised his hand in a small wave. Instead of turning away and pretending that he hadn’t been blatantly staring, Merlin’s hand acted without his permission and waved back before he could take control of the offending limb.

 He spun on his heel cursing himself again and feeling more than a little embarrassed. He swore he could hear Gwaine’s chuckle as he walked further down the path, the feeling of embarrassment ebbed when Merlin noticed that the tone wasn’t mocking but friendly. He hoped they would meet again.

Though not even Merlin with all of the powers that he possessed could ever have predicted the circumstances that would next bring the two together.

 

More time passed and though both Arthur and Merlin were becoming restless, they had managed to fall back into something more like how they were before what Merlin calls ‘The Discovery’. Merlin had been working tirelessly on improving and controlling his magic, searching through every book that Gaius thought might be useful, and many more that were not, in the hope that there would be something that he could use to help Arthur. There was nothing.

Merlin now knew that he wouldn’t be able to search more openly for an answer or even for help in his search. The people of Camelot didn’t like to talk about what had happened all those years ago, what was still happening now.

The mention of Nimueh to anyone other than Gaius proved to be problematic. The villagers would shut him down straight away, dismissing any queries he had, and then there was the one occasion where he was chased from an establishment by an elderly woman whose eyes turned crazed at the mention of the Witch and the Pendragon’s.

 They acted as if ignoring the event meant that it hadn’t happened, that they hadn’t just went from one delusional ruler to another. Well, that was what Merlin grasped from the situation. Though there was one thing that stood out to him, something that the owner of the tavern had told him when Merlin had tried to question him.

“Don’t let ‘em find you askin, you hear? Can’t go givin ‘em reason to mess with ya.” The smile on the man’s face had shown a detached sort of amusement, the sort that held no happiness only bitterness and pain, his eyes seemed distant, thinking of some past event that Merlin was not privy to sharing.

“Who? What will they do?” Merlin asked hoping that the man hadn’t finished talking to him yet because this was the most he had learnt in weeks.

“The Witch’s guards,” He said without hesitation. He seemed to come back to himself then, “Watch yourself, lad.”

Merlin watched as the man, one of Gaius’ few loyal customers, walked away to serve a group of men at the other end of the bar.

Later that night the Barkeeper’s son, a young lad of about thirteen summers, found himself at Gaius’ door.

“Benjamin, what can I do for you?” Gaius asked their visitor, Merlin heard his voice soften slightly from his usual grumble when talking to the boy.

“I’m here for Merlin.” The boy panted, he had ran all the way there by the look of him.

“Merlin? Why ever would you need Merlin?” Gaius asked genuinely perplexed. He knew Merlin’s healing skills had improved whilst working with him but he didn’t see why a patient would ask for Merlin over Gaius’ experiences just yet.

“It’s Pa.” he said, “He’s not ill, he’s just drunk.” Benjamin added in an attempt to put Gaius at ease. “He told me to run to get Merlin because he had something to tell him.”

“About Nimueh?” Merlin interjected, coming towards the door making both Gaius and Benjamin jump at the sudden interruption. Benjamin regained some of his composure and nodded slowly.

“Nimueh?!” Gaius shouted and then checked himself before continuing in a hurried whisper. “What were you thinking asking around the village about Nimueh? I swear Merlin sometimes I wonder if your mother dropped you on your head as a child!”

Benjamin’s lip quirked up into smile at that but was quickly chased away when Gaius caught him and raised his eyebrow.

After brief discussion and a ‘we’ll talk about this later’ thrown after him, Merlin followed Benjamin towards the tavern. The two skulked through the village streets after dark, looking out for Nimueh’s guards all the while. They encountered no-one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right I will post again but it might take a bit of time. I get that the way I'm writing has probably changed and these next chapters aren't edited by anyone who knows what they're doing. And I can't really expect you guys to like what I've done because I really don't. But still feel free to tell me what you think. Thanks for reading I do appreciate it.


	7. Tavern Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I copy and paste this straight from a word document so if the structure is a bit different I apologise, also there are probably a bunch of spelling mistakes and stuff.  
> I was blown away by the support I got from continuing this story, it was so nice. I want to thank all of you that commented on my last chapter, I'm sorry I didn't reply to them all individually but I really appreciate all of the kind words and the kudos.

The tavern owner, Saul, kept him there for the night so as not to risk him having a run in with the guards, though when Merlin was informed of this upon arrival he couldn’t help but think of it as an overreaction as he still hadn’t encountered one.

Merlin lay on the floor of Saul’s house as the first rays of sun broke through the window. Benjamin snored softly next to him, he envied the boy and his ability to drift off so easily, his own mind was racing with the stories that Saul had told him. Accounts of villagers coming up against Nimueh’s guard, it was said that even to talk about such events was grounds for punishment but he had made an exception for Merlin.

That night Saul told him all matters of horror stories ranging from a dispute between farmers in the area ending in the ‘unexplained’ death of both of their children, a young girl practising magic that was rumoured to disagree with Nimueh’s ruling was stolen in the middle of the night and never heard from again and many others that made Merlin sick to his stomach. It could be said that Nimueh was better than Uther in that she didn’t discriminate against any one group of people, but Merlin couldn’t help but believe that even Uther would have needed better reasons to do what Nimueh has supposedly done. Gaius had told him that Nimueh usually only ever appears in public for important announcements and the occasional hanging which, according to Gaius, were not as frequent but some still as unjustified.

Saul had admitted that the guards weren’t always around but when they were you shouldn’t be and that it was near impossible to tell when they would turn up to cause trouble so to stay alert. It was after this that Merlin found a lull in the man’s conversation and so probed him for a bit more information about the citadel itself, finding it odd that it hadn’t come up at all so far.

 “You ‘ear a lot as a barkeep yanno.” Saul said. Merlin did know, Saul had said this very thing multiple times since starting to talk. “I ‘eard tell of some lads seein’ the witch goin’ through a side tunnel into the citadel.” Saul shook his head. “I told em they were crazy, was impossible t’ get through. But sure enough they told me that she cursed it in the first place n if she c’n do that she c’n get through it.” He nodded then like he’d made a good point. “Next time I see ‘im he’s half crazed. Shoutin’ that they were after him, that he’d tried to follow the witch through the thorns. Two of ‘em came bustin’ in like they owned the place, beat him til he was barely breathin’ then there she was.” He paused, looking into the flames as if he could see her there, Merlin thought that maybe he could. “He was quiet, moanin a bit, but he was still breathing. She knelt next to ‘im and put two fingers on his head.” Saul mimicked the action as if he was touching the man’s forehead himself. “The screams were like nothin’ I ever ‘eard before an’ I was ‘ere for the Purge. Was like a nightmare come alive. Took too long for ‘im to die an’ we ‘ad to watch.” Merlin was silent, watching Saul as his arm drooped over the side of his chair. “She told us, if anyone else wanted t’ go against ‘er and try t’ get to the Pendragon’s that they would not meet such a pleasant end.” Saul rubbed a hand over his face.

“Did anyone else?” Merlin asked unsure of whether he still wanted to know the answer.

Saul sighed deeply again before answering. “We spread the word as well we could. People still came an’ they tried but we ain’t ‘eard nothin’ of ‘em since. We got reasons t’ believe she takes ‘em to the citadel, they say that’s where she lives. No one knows for sure mind.”

Saul had gone to sleep not long after that but Merlin had been unable to quiet his mind, thinking that it would be that much harder to get into the citadel if that is where Nimueh and her guards were based.

When Merlin heard the cockerel from a nearby farm crowing he decided that he should head back to Gaius and discuss this with him. He woke Benjamin and told him to thank his father and that if there’s anything that he can do in return not to hesitate in asking him, Benjamin nodded sleepily before falling back into unconsciousness.

Gaius was awake and putting their breakfast together when Merlin returned, he sat down with his uncle at their table and relayed Saul’s stories to him. Gaius nodded along with Merlin’s words but looked distracted and uneasy. The older man only vocalised his worries after Merlin had finished and asked Gaius’ opinion.

“Saul is a good man and I don’t doubt that what he says he saw is the truth. But I can only imagine that if that which I thought was rumour is actually the truth, then we are in a much more dangerous position than I believed.” Gaius removed his bowl of oatmeal without eating more than a bite and moved back over to his desk full of papers. “I knew that Nimueh was bad news, don’t misunderstand me, but the power she holds is immense and it seems her motives are confused.” Merlin asked what he meant and it took a moment for Gaius to find the words to use. “She was always a bit of an eccentric but she knew what she wanted and how to get it.  Now she seems to have lost her way, I always believed that she had killed the Pendragon’s because what reason did she have to keep them alive.”

“Would it not upset some sort of balance? I mean to give life you need to take it from somewhere, right? Does that not work both ways? If she kills all of those people using her magic than the source of her magic would lose some of its power right?”

“I don’t know, Merlin. In theory that could be right, but we don’t know enough about this curse or Nimueh herself to make assumptions.” Gaius sighed as he reorganised some of his papers. “Have you told Arthur any of this?”

“I’ve not seen him.” Merlin said shortly, Gaius watched him for a moment but didn’t press any further.

 

It was past curfew on that same day that there was a knocking on Gaius’ back door, it was the first time that Merlin had witnessed anyone using it, in all the time that he’d been here people only ever used the front door through the apothecary shop, even him. He and Gaius shared a glance before Gaius left their supper and answered the door.

It was Saul. There was a man leaning heavily against him. Merlin was unsure why the barkeeper would bring a drunk to Gaius, surely he dealt with them all the time.

“Me boy found ‘im on the floor outside the tavern after we cleared out. He’d not been in, not touched a drop. C’n tell by ‘is breath.” Merlin was glad he was now used to Saul’s accent, he’d only met one other person in Camelot that had such a strong lilt to their voice and Merlin had barely been able to understand a word he had said. “Wanted t’ move ‘im ‘fore a patrol came an’ got him for breakin’ curfew.”

Gaius who had been nodding silently while Saul spoke started to ask his questions, while leading him inside. “Has he been speaking? Lay him down there please. Was he conscious when Benjamin found him?”

Saul obliged Gaius’ orders, “Barely. Mutterin’ somethin’ about a Tommy. ‘Gotta see Tommy’. He started shakin’ real bad an’ then just out cold.” When Saul lay the man down on Merlin’s cot he got a first glimpse at his face.

“Gwaine.” Merlin said aloud, recognising him as soon as his hair fell from his face.

Gaius dismissed Saul with his thanks and hopes for a safe return home, Saul assured them that he’d be fine. When Gaius returned to Gwaine’s side he started to check him over. “Don’t just stand there Merlin, the man has a fever.”

Merlin jumped to attention and rushed around the room collecting the necessary items that they would need to try and break his fever. After what felt like hours Gwaine started to cool but his symptoms were still worrying.

“I’ll watch him, Gaius.” Merlin’s uncle raised an eyebrow at him, though Merlin could see the tired lines etched onto the man’s face. “I’ll wake you if anything changes and I’ll speak to Arthur tomorrow.” Gaius nodded, trusting that Merlin could do this one task.

It was early morning before Gwaine’s fever broke properly and his breathing settled into an even, steady rhythm. Merlin couldn’t keep his eyes open for a moment longer and fell asleep in the stool next to the other man’s cot with his hand on Gwaine’s wrist, the beating of his pulse lulling him to sleep.

When he became suddenly aware that his hand was empty he startled, his eyes flying open. Arthur was stood in front of him with his arms crossed.

“What took you so long?” he asked. Merlin knew that Arthur had no real way to tell time here, the sun rose and fell when it felt like it, sometimes rising twice when Merlin is sat there with him.

“I was watching a patient for Gaius, his fever just broke and I must have fell asleep.” Merlin’s thoughts went a little off topic and not for the first time he wondered if Arthur could ever get sick or even hurt here. “I should go, I need to be there when he wakes up.”

“Don’t.” he said, Merlin looked up at him. “He’ll probably wake you up anyway. Like that older woman, the one that woke you up by slapping you with a wash cloth?” Arthur chuckled to himself, Merlin smiled back delighting at seeing Arthur in such high spirits.

“Gwaine’s not like that.” Merlin said before he even thought about it, though how could he be sure, “Well I don’t think so anyway.”

“Gwaine, is it? You know him well?” Arthur asked.

“Not really. I only met him once but he seems nice enough.” He may not know the man but from that one meeting he was still one of the nicest people he had met in Camelot.

Arthur laughed again though this time Merlin wasn’t so happy to hear it, it reminded him of an adult laughing at a child that had said something particularly stupid. “You’re too trusting, Merlin.”

Merlin could tell that he would continue to tease him about this unless he said something else, so he decided to change the subject. “I found out what Nimueh has been doing.”

Arthur’s face lost its amused expression, they were both silent for a moment until Arthur spoke, “Okay, let’s hear it.”

Merlin wasn’t sure when but at some point in his retelling Arthur had sat in the sand and his head had fell into his hands. When Merlin was finished neither of them spoke, he was waiting for Arthur to respond.

“I need to get out of here, Merlin. I need to set this right.” His voice was so soft that it was almost a whisper.

“I know, Arthur.” These very words had been exchanged numerous times but not in this way, never without at least one of the shouting them at the other one. Merlin couldn’t help but thinking they were making progress, in themselves if not their situation.

“I’ll try and come up with a list of some of the entrances into the citadel. Even if she is in there she may not know where they all are. You just have to find a way to get past the thorns, right?” Arthur asked, Merlin nodded but didn’t want to tell him that they were still no closer to working out how to awaken him even if he did make it into the citadel.

 “I’ve been practising meditation when I’ve had the chance. To try and get to you when I’m awake, but it’s not worked yet.” Arthur was looking up at him now, his face showed hope that Merlin couldn’t help but feel pained at seeing. “Gaius says that once I get through properly a first time then it should be as easy as summoning my own magic.”

Arthur nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help?” To look at the two of them in that moment it would be hard to tell which one looked the most vulnerable. “I don’t like leaving you to do this alone, it could be dangerous.” Merlin didn’t want to tell him just how dangerous he thought it could be.

“You can talk to me.” Merlin suggested.

“I’m talking to you now, Merlin.” Arthur said sounding confused.

“No, I mean when I’m not here.” Merlin looked down at Arthur from his perch on a rock, he didn’t respond. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I can try that.” Arthur said, not looking Merlin in the eye.

Merlin watched him a moment longer before looking out to sea and trying to recall what Gaius had taught him about opening his mind to magical influence. He had been able to block outside influences from entering his mind from a young age according to Gaius, he believed it was an instinctual part of Merlin’s own power. They hoped that Arthur may be able to use these techniques to open his mind to Merlin’s magic and that the magical nature of the connection they already had would also play a part. Merlin just had to make Arthur believe that it could work.

“I hear you sometimes,” Arthur said, interrupting Merlin’s train of thought, “In my head.” Arthur didn’t look up at him as he spoke, focusing instead on picking blades of grass from tufts that had grown through the sand and winding them around his fingers.

“What do you hear?” Merlin asked, his mind was racing with all the things that Arthur could have possibly heard, before he even realised what this could mean for them.

“What you want to say but don’t.” Arthur said and Merlin couldn’t help but think how specific that sounded, how long had he been able to hear these things? “I think I hear what you want to be heard but you don’t say.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Merlin said, his mind was buzzing with all of the things that could have been said, whether it was ever anything of any importance.

“Why didn’t you? I wasn’t mentioned a lot but when I was-” he snapped the blade of grass in his hand and stopped talking. He let the broken parts fall back to the ground.

“I’d better get back.” Merlin said closing his eyes and not wanting to think about what Arthur meant until he was away from him. “If you want to try and reach me make sure to clear your mind and think of me. Think like you’re talking to me and if I hear it I’ll try and do as you said, okay?”

“Merlin-”

“Arthur I’ve got to go-” Merlin’s eyes were still closed and he could feel himself drifting between.

“To Gwaine?” he asked and it went back to feeling like none of the previous conversation had happened.

Merlin opened his eyes to Gaius’ rooms, _‘What the hell was that?!’_ Merlin shouted to Arthur in his mind, hoping that the prat heard him loud and clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read this. Please read the notes on the last chapter about possibly not ending this fic, I'm trying to write more chapters but I'm hitting some blocks in the story and my own writing and I don't want to let you guys down so just know that it's not certain yet.  
> Does anyone think I should change Saul's dialogue so as not to actually show an accent, is that too hard to read?  
> Let me know what you think so far, I really appreciate all the comments. x

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far I love you already and thanks for reading. I really hope you didn't hate it and I'll try and get the next chapter to you when I can.


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